Ever considered medical school?

Ever considered medical school?

I was once posted to Maple Ridge Detachment, 'E' Div. for three years (1967 to 1970) on BC's Lower Mainland.  Maple Ridge was a memorable posting in my long career and it was a time that I discovered golf. Over the years, golf became one of my favorite sports.

A few weeks ago, I was invited to play nine. I was hoping for a 'hole in one' -- I had never had such luck but I had been a witness to one such miracle in 'F' Div. Anyway, after the game, it was not necessary that I publish my score. Other Vets blamed their elbow, knee, shoulder, prostate or their recently purchased clubs. I blamed age.

After the game, I returned home to a scrumptious dinner. I figured it's one of the benefits of remaining in love after fourteen years of marriage. Nevertheless, I wasn't quite feeling myself  so after dinner my wife encouraged me to lie on the chesterfield -- perhaps a little quietness and Seinfeld would help. She added: 'I'll do the dishes, rest may help you recover after a long day of golfing'. I was led to believe that my wife had had medical training in addition to her university degrees in education?

But, I was serious. I had felt sick. The next morning, I had a rash on my hands and face. Off to see the white coats at '...merge'. Sure enough the experts said: 'Shingles'...while adding spouts of advice: 'You must worry alot, what's on your mind...let things go...relax...enjoy your retirement.' 

Another specialist said: 'Expect days of pain, shingles are connected to nerves, you likely won't get any sleep'. It all sounded seriously dreadful to me ... like, imagine being told by your wife that she had lost her engagement ring while swimming the Pacific!' What man needs to hear that? And what man needs to hear all the nitty details of fast approaching death by Shingles?

After a few days of discomfort, back to '...merge'.  The new white coat was young -- I felt that I was back in high school. We used first names, he was Mark. I felt relaxed enough to tell Mark about my golf game.  I liked the guy, but he asked the sort of questions about golf that would turn anyone off the game. Why was he so curious? Had he never held a Titleist?

Mark examined me intently, I could tell he had been only half paying attention to my mumbling. Then, he declared: 'Nope, don't think its Shingles, but I'll send you to my colleague. She's a specialist'. 

Off to see Specialist. I approached the receptionist and she apparently knew my identity -- 'so you're the guy who was out golfing, eh?' 'Fill out this form and Doctor Amanda will see you shortly'. 

Soon afterwards, I'm ushered into a small examination room and I wait for Dr. Amanda. Within a moment, a very young and pretty woman enters. Reminded me of someone's high school age daughter. Clean and sparkling. Rosy. A smile as wide as the Commissioner's Tipstaff. Dark hair, dark eyes. Very young and pretty. I spotted a gold watch and felt her firm handshake. Determined and sure of herself. Placed the latest model cell phone on her desk.  I incorrectly presumed she was the first line nurse about to ask tons upon tons of questions.

'Hi Joe', she said; 'I'm Amanda, your doctor, understand that you were out for a game?' 'Why yes', I relied, 'are you really the doctor? 'Yes, I am the doctor and I have been for a few years. 'Ok, Amanda, do you play golf? Yes, a little ...during Residency, I was on the university golf team. I was never pleased if I shot over eighty!'

'Joe, here's your '...script, take it to the drugstore. 

What? Poison Ivy!

And here's some advise Joe; next time, stay out of the woods after your first tee shot.'! 

See you in three weeks.

'Maintain Our Memories'

J. J. Healy,

Reg#23685